


Good Girl

by CleverUsernameHere



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Age Difference, Angst, Biting, Choking, Daddy Kink, Denial, F/M, Forced Orgasm, Groping, Intimidation, Possessive Dean Winchester, Rough Sex, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-29
Updated: 2021-01-29
Packaged: 2021-03-15 20:48:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,431
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29070555
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CleverUsernameHere/pseuds/CleverUsernameHere
Summary: You do whatever it takes to keep Dean happy
Relationships: Dean Winchester/Reader, Dean Winchester/You
Comments: 6
Kudos: 59





	Good Girl

**Author's Note:**

> This fills my ‘dean Winchester’ square for spndarkbingo and my ‘choking’ square for spnkinkbingo on my tumblr slut-for-jared

11:05pm 

“No, damnit.” You curse to yourself, staring at the little clock on your phone. You pick up the pace, running up the stairs of your porch and to the door. 

Thankfully, the door is unlocked, so you’re able to slip inside. The door shuts with a small little thump and a click of the lock. It’s like the sound that triggers the reaction of the lamp just a few feet away flicking on.

Your heart leaps to your throat at the sight of your step father lounging in his leather recliner, wearing a stern look and gripping a bottle of Jack Daniels. 

“Where have you been? Your curfew is eleven.” Dean’s voice is firm and demanding, it makes you shiver.

“It’s only five minutes after.” You defend yourself out of instinct, yet fail to muster up even a bit of confidence in your voice. Dean can hear the nervous quiver and he sees the way you can’t meet his eye.

“Five minutes after,” he parrots back, standing from his old leather chair, “means you’re late.” The last word comes out as a growl that has your lip quivering. “So I’ll ask you again,” he’s approaching, getting closer and closer to you until you’re backed up against the door. “Where were you? And don’t you dare lie to me, little girl.”

He’s close enough that all he has to do is nearly whisper the question in that deep, intimidating voice. Instead of looking up to meet his striking green eyes, you stare down at your own feet. 

You suck in a breath, knowing how serious the consequences for lying were under Dean’s roof. “W-with Eric.” You confess softly, however there’s no telling whether your honesty will earn you any favors. 

Something flips inside of Dean and you swear you can feel the rage boiling inside of him. “That better be short for Erica.” Dean warns.

“He’s a boy. We went on a date.” 

You can’t help but glance up at Dean when he spends a long moment in silence. There’s still a flash of anger in his eyes, there’s no way to miss it. Then he scoffs and a devious smirk crosses his face.

It’s not the response you're expecting. That is, until he leans down and rests his lips by your ear. Over the sound of your own heart thumping out of your chest, you hear him ask very clearly “does your little boyfriend know what you let your daddy do to you?”

A small chuckle sounds from him as he straightens back up, watching as your skin pales. A look of shame crosses your face. Despite your blood running cold, your cheeks fill with warmth and yet again you lower your gaze.

“You’re not my dad.” You say in barely above a whisper. It’s not so much that you’re telling Dean, but that you're reminding yourself.

Except Dean hears and he doesn’t like it. Not one bit. A scowl crosses his lips, which only deepens when you keep your head down and try to walk away. 

With a loud thump that makes you flinch, Dean’s hand slams against the wall beside you, blocking your pathway to escape. His free hand shoots out and grabs your chin tight, forcing you to look up to his face and meet his eyes.

“What did you just say to me?” Dean’s voice is a deep growl, rage evident in his eyes. You’ve never understood why it sets him off so much, you stating that simple fact. He’s not your father. You hadn’t even grown up with him, you’ve only known him the past few years. 

Then again, you blame yourself. You should know better by now not to bring up the topic. There’s no reason to keep pushing his buttons, even if it was a simple attempt at peace of mind. You’d never get it, anyway. Not with Dean. 

“Nothing, I’m sorry.” You apologize quietly, lip quivering as Dean holds and stares down at your face. You’re sure he can see the tears welling in your eyes, which makes his lip quirk up. He releases you then, knowing that he got his point across as intended.

“I know you are.” He murmurs, bringing his thumb up to your cheek to wipe away a single stray tear. Green eyes stay locked on yours as he moves his hand to rest on the side of your neck, his thumb stroking along your jawline.

“Go get ready for bed.” Dean’s voice is so nonchalant compared to the harsh way he’d been speaking to you moments ago. You hate the way his entire attitude and demeanor can shift within seconds. It keeps you on edge, never knowing what’s going to happen next.

He nods his head to the stairs and you pull away from him. Dean lets you go, so you take off at a quick pace, not wanting to disobey and displease him twice in one night. “I’ll be up in a few minutes!” His voice calls after you. You don’t respond.

When you hit the top of the stairs, you scurry off into the bathroom. Out of habit you go to lock the door, but when you twist the little latch there’s no click. It only takes you a moment to remember that Dean had disabled, well, more like broken all the locks in the house. Except the one on the front door, of course. 

“There are no secrets between us.” His words from the day he’d done it replay in your head as you glance to your reflection in the mirror. The girl staring back at you is almost unrecognizable, and it’s not just because of the tears blurring your vision. 

You wipe your eyes with the sleeve of your sweater. You sniffle after and swallow through the lump in your throat before taking a few deep breaths. You have to be quick, Dean will be expecting you in bed by the time he comes to join you.

Things hadn’t always been this way. Before, only two years ago, the relationship between you and Dean had been fine. Not exactly good, but he never touched you. There were undeniable stares, but your mother’s presence kept him at bay. You never breathed a word of it to her, knowing how happy Dean made her. Then, in a single moment that changed the entire course of your life, your mother was killed by a drunk driver. With your mother gone, a father you never knew, and no other family, you were left with only Dean. He happily took guardianship over you, as well as complete control. 

When she was alive, your mom didn’t want you to have a job while going to school because she thought it was too much pressure. Now Dean doesn’t let you get one because he wants you home with him when you’re not in school. No job meant no money. No money meant nowhere else to go, which meant you were stuck at home with Dean. He knows that, and takes full advantage. He rewards you with a minor amount of freedom, but you always have to earn it.

So you endure. You let Dean have his way, you keep him happy. At least that’s what you tell yourself. The delusion of having an option and choosing to comply seems better than the harsh reality of knowing Dean has no qualms with taking what he wants instead. He’s proven that before. At least now you get something in return.

You wonder what your mother would think of you, if she knew what you let her husband do. It makes your stomach churn and your heart ache. You force those thoughts away with another deep breath. You don’t like to think about your mother’s passing or the darkness that was unlocked in your step father after. It’s easier to suppress it. 

You busy yourself with brushing your teeth instead, trying to remember the good night you had with your potential boyfriend, Eric. 

“Does your little boyfriend know what you let your daddy do to you?” Once again, Dean’s words replay in your head, corrupting your mind and bringing tears to your eyes. Eric would be disgusted if he knew, just like your mother would be because it’s wrong. You know it is and while Dean is prone to making bad choices, he certainly isn’t stupid enough to think it’s okay. 

It’s not a matter of ignorance about right and wrong for him, it’s a simple disregard of morals. You both know it. Neither of you talk about it.

You spit your toothpaste into the sink, take a small sip of water then swish and spit again before finally rising and setting aside the toothbrush. You make quick work of getting from the bathroom to Dean’s room. Despite sharing his bed every night, it will never feel like your room. You don’t want it to be.

You dig through the drawers, finding a nightshirt, which is actually just Dean’s shirt, and a pair of lace black underwear. The pair is special, having been a present from Dean. Well, more of a present for Dean in all reality, and tonight you want, no, need to earn back his favor. 

You change from your clothing into your sleep clothes, tossing the worn ones into the laundry basket. Then, you finally crawl into the large bed and tuck yourself under the covers, desperately wishing you could ignore the resurfacing memories of the nights Dean had to force you into it. Even more so, you want to forget the fact that this bed was the one Dean shared with your mother. 

Clenching your eyes shut, you attempt to relax. Exhaustion and the comfort of the memory foam mattress both end up working in your favor as you roll onto your stomach and start to drift into slumber. 

You hear it loud and clear when Dean enters the room, his boots thudding against the floor as he stumbles while taking them off. You squeeze your eyes tighter as your heart rate begins to pick up. Flashing back to when you walked into the house, you remember the bottle he’d been clutching in his hand. You take an educated guess that he’s drunk, but when Dean flops onto the bed and drags the covers over himself haphazardly, your suspicions are confirmed. He must’ve spent the last few minutes finishing off the bottle. And maybe a second one.

You never know what you’re going to face when Dean is like this. He almost always gets touchier and clinger, even a bit loose lipped, which you can deal with. You don’t mind it so much when he simply holds you and rambles into your ear before falling asleep. Other times he gets incredibly aroused and rough with you, the alcohol lowering his inhibitions. That behavior is a lot harder to deal with, even if you’re just as accustomed to it. You hope that tonight it’s a former. You’ve had enough of today, all you want is to sleep and block out the world.

“C’mere, baby girl.” He murmurs in a bit of a slurred voice. Before you can say anything, a muscular arm is wrapping over you and pulling you. You’re moved from your stomach to your side, and your back meets Dean’s solid, bare chest. “Keep your daddy nice and warm.” He purrs into your ear and the alcohol on his breath wafts into your nose. You want to cringe and pull away, but instead you stay stuck, allowing his body to curve around yours.

In your ear, Dean’s muttering nonsense about how soft your skin is and how pretty you are. In between words, he peppers your neck and shoulder with sloppy kisses while his hand works its way under your shirt to rub over your waist.

“I know you’re a good girl, baby. Sometimes you just need reminded.” He sighs out, then gives your waist a little squeeze. “You’re such a pretty girl. My sweet Y/N.” He murmurs deeply, rutting his hips against your ass.

Dean doesn’t actually ever apologize, he never does. Instead he simply calms down and acts overly nice. Well, what he considers nice. In his eyes, being kind to you is showing you how much he wants you. Dean thinks it’s love, he’s made that clear in the past, but you’re not that sure. You’d peg it closer to possession or obsession. 

It usually lasts for a bit until he assumes you’ve forgotten the previous events, and then Dean moves on to what he wants. But you don’t forget. You never do. Every bit of fear and hurt and humiliation you’ve felt because of him sticks with you, slowly breaking you down until inevitably there will be nothing left. You wonder if you’ll ever actually get to the point of numbness and nothingness, or if you're already there. It’s hard to tell these days. 

“I just worry about you, y’know?” Dean admits, his cold, calloused hand continuing to roam your body without fight from you. Anxiety keeps you frozen, allowing him to do as he pleases. Just like always. Just like you know Dean wants. “You’re such a beautiful girl,” Dean continues huskily. “There are people who will try and take advantage of you. Like that boy.” He spits out the last sentence, still disgruntled.

You want to call him out on his hypocrisy, to tell him that the only one doing that is him, and that Eric has been nothing but kind. Instead you keep your mouth shut. Correcting him always leads to an argument, and arguing with Dean is something you want to avoid at all cost. 

Suddenly, his large hand gropes your bare breast hard and you wince when he pinches your nipple. Dean’s breathing gets heavier in your ear, sending shivers down your spine. His hand travels down from your chest to your stomach, cold fingers running across your skin, causing goosebumps to arise in their wake.

“Give me a kiss, baby.” He demands lowly. You don’t have time to react before he’s turning your head and slamming his lips to yours. While sloppy, his kiss is passionate and firm. His tongue pushes into your mouth as you try to keep up with kissing him back. You can taste the stale whiskey on his breath and feel the way his bulging cock is pushing against your bottom.

His hand travels lower, fingers finally touching your panties. Dean pulls back from your lips to start kissing down your neck. “Lace, my favorite.” He purrs after registering what the material is. His breath is hot and his suckling kisses against your neck are wet. Then Dean starts nipping at your skin, making sure to leave his mark where he knows everyone will see. “Did you wear these for your little boyfriend, or special just for me?” He mutters, possessiveness evident in his voice.

“I changed.” You promise in return. “I- I know these are your favorite.” You tell him the truth, but whether he believes you or not is another story.

You’re almost relieved when he purrs out, “thank you, baby.” The relief, however, quickly fades when his thick fingers slip beneath the lace and between your legs. Your first instinct is to squeeze your thighs together, but that’s not what Dean wants. Instead of using his words, he sinks his teeth into the tender flesh of the junction between your neck and shoulder.

“Ah!” You gasp at the pain, quickly unclenching your thighs for him. When he unhooks his teeth, there’s a throbbing pain. It’s going to act as a reminder, which is Dean’s goal. You know it is. He easily could’ve demanded your obedience, but instead he made you give in, using pain to persuade you. Pain you want to avoid, which will only happen if you’re good for him.

“Good girl.” Dean sighs out, rubbing his middle finger between your folds. “Or are you?” You tense at the question, Dean feels it. “Did you let that boy touch what’s mine?”

“I didn’t.” You hiss out the words as a slight stinging pain accompanies the single, thick digit pushing into you. You’re not wet, not really, and the intrusion burns. Dean knows. He’ll only make it tolerable when you give him what he wants.

“Be honest with me.” Dean growls against your ear and you shiver. His other hand comes up to wrap around neck. He thrusts his finger hard enough to pull a whimper from your lips. You squirm against him when he starts to squeeze your neck, but he’s firmly pressed up behind you, leaving you nowhere to go.

“He held my hand and… and he kissed me.” You confess. You know Dean won’t be happy about it, even if it wasn’t nearly as severe as he suspected. “That’s it. I promise, daddy.” You say as sweetly yet as firmly as you can manage through your blocked airway.

Dean hums from behind you, releasing your neck. “I believe you.” He says finally as you desperately reclaim your breath. “You know better than to lie to me.” His finger withdraws and moves to rub gently over your clit. Your body twitches at stimulation and you finally feel like you can breathe normally again. 

He rubs in a soft, circular motion, easing you into the feeling and allowing you to relax. You’d be thankful if you didn’t know this was a part of his game. Still, you can’t deny the pleasure starting to build and the wetness forming between your legs.

This time when he pushes a single finger into you, it slides in easily. Dean groans into your shoulder from behind you, muttering unintelligible praise as he adds another finger.

“So tight and warm, baby.” Dean’s husky words are clear this time. “So fucking perfect.” His fingers curl and thrust inside of you and you can’t help but moan. Your fingers dig into the pillow under your head that you hadn’t even realized you’d been clutching onto. 

“Gotta get you ready for me.” He’s rushing, shoving his fingers into you and scissoring and curling them sloppily. Foreplay isn’t his thing when he’s drunk, he always rushes to the main event whether you’re ready or not. So, you try to relax. You focus on the feel of his thick fingers moving inside of you rather than who the fingers belong to. 

Dean’s panting heavily in your ear by the time he pushes a third finger in. You moan softly, and the sound only eggs him on. He groans and you swear you feel his cock throb in his boxers against your ass.

“Show me what a good girl you are for me.” Dean urges, withdrawing his fingers. It’s a miracle his patience lasted long enough to get you ready. 

You do as he says, lifting your leg and shifting your hips, even arching your back. Dean rushes to tear his boxers off under the covers and the second he kicks them away, he presses up behind you. His hand tucks under the knee of your elevated leg, holding you open for him. The other hand wiggles between your bodies and grasps his cock.

You hold your breath when you feel the fat head pressing against your entrance. “That’s it, baby. Just take it.” Dean slurs out when he pushes in, feeling your slick walls accommodate his thick cock. “Fuck, you’re tight,” he groans while you whine at the stretch. Nothing could ever truly prepare you for Dean’s massive length. You had no experience before him, but you know he’s huge by anyone’s standards. By the time he fills you completely, the inability to catch your breath seems to return.

Dean adjusts his position, keeping one hand under your knee to hold your leg open, while the other arm tucks under your body. His hand ends up around your neck again; he doesn’t squeeze like before, he simply holds it. A not-so-subtle way of keeping you in place.

Then he starts to move, thrusting into you lazily from behind, groaning out his pleasure into the back of your head. You close your eyes and just try to let it happen, but then Dean starts talkative. He always does when he’s drunk and you have to resist the urge to tell him to keep his damn mouth shut. 

“That’s it, baby. Just take it. Take what your daddy’s givin’ you.” He grunts into your ear. The noise mingles with the sound of his hips slapping against your ass as he fills you again and again. It’s on the borderline of too much, the way his thick cock forces your tight walls to stretch repeatedly.

“God, you feel fucking perfect. Tell me how much you love it.” Dean demands, giving your neck a brief squeeze. “Tell daddy how much you love his cock.”

You give in easily. “I love it, daddy.” The words come out high and cracked, which makes Dean smile. You don’t even need to see it to know. The way his hips start to snap harder is a good indication. “I love your cock.”

“Yeah, yeah you do.” Dean starts to pick up the pace, loving the way your warm, wet walls cling to him. You’re just as tight as when he popped your cherry and damn, Dean loves it. 

You can’t help but moan as he starts to fuck you harder, pounding his cock into your with little mercy. It feels as if he’s going to split you in half and there’s nothing you can do to stop him. It’s exactly how Dean wants you.

Dean’s panting and grunting in your ear like an animal, his pleasure heightened by the way your cunt throbs around him. You try to fight it, the warmth that floods through your body and the little knot that forms in your belly, but it’s no use.

“You’re such a good girl for daddy.” It feels like praise, and you can’t help but accept it. “You’re so perfect, baby.” He nips at your ear while beginning to snake his hand away from your neck. It ends up between your legs and you cry out when his finger starts to rub at your little nub before you can stop yourself. “That’s it, baby.” Dean continues his breathy praise, thrusting his cock into your constricting walls over and over. “You’re gonna come for me, aren’t you? You gonna be a good girl and come on daddy’s cock?”

Dean’s chasing his orgasm, heading right for the edge and wanting you to fall over with him. His thrusts are getting quicker and sloppier as he relentlessly fucks you. The pad of his finger rubs at your clit, sending little shocks of pleasure through your body. 

You manage to nod at his question because you can’t fight the inevitable.

“Tell me!” Dean commands, slamming himself inside of you fast and hard. The tip of his cock nudges at your cervix and you whimper, your body starting to shake. 

“Yes, daddy! I’m- I’m gonna come.” Your thighs quiver and your toes curl as you're finally forced over the edge. A loud cry of ecstasy spills from your lips against your will as waves of intense pleasure crash over you. You give Dean what he wants, your cunt clenching and pulsing around his cock. Everything feels hazy, the world around you buzzing.

“Gonna fill you up. Gonna come inside you.” Dean grunts out the warning, giving a few more sharp, hard thrusts before burying himself as deep as he can get. With a loud groan that rumbles his chest, he lets go. His cock throbs and then warm, thick seed paints your insides. Dean gives a shove of his hips, breathing heavily as he pumps you full. All you can do is lie there, ashamed of your own bliss as your step father’s cock spills inside of you.

It takes a moment before you realize that Dean’s released your leg and now has both arms wrapped around your middle. He hugs you tight against his warm, heaving chest as the two of your catch your breath together. 

You both stay like that for a while, bodies connected. Dean’s humming some rock song, clearly in a good mood, and nuzzles his face into the sweaty crook of your neck, only pausing the tune to kiss and nip at your skin. When he does it, you don’t even shiver. You’re too worn out for the discomfort and the shame.

When Dean’s cock fully softens inside of you, he finally pulls out. He shushes you when you whimper at the thick drag of him withdrawing. His seed follows after, dripping from your hole and sticking to the insides of your thighs.

You feel as if you can’t move, so you don’t try. Dean takes it upon himself to pull your panties back up your legs until they’re in place, as if you’re not going to dash to the bathroom the second he falls asleep. 

Dean runs a soothing hand over your sore and most definitely bruised ass, as well as your hips and thighs. After a few moments, he turns you over, forcing your body to move until the two of you are face to face. The room is dark, but you can still see the whites of his eyes and the lines of his face.

His hand, the one that hadn’t been between your legs, moves to stroke through your hair away from your face. Dean then cups your cheek and moves closer. You think he wants a kiss, but he just stares you dead in the eye.

“Your curfew is now eight, and I don’t want you seeing that boy anymore.” He tells you sternly, and despite the fact that he’s finally calmed down, you know he’s dead serious. You also know deep down he doesn’t just mean Eric, but other boys, too. He doesn’t want you seeing anyone who’s not him. 

Too tired to protest, you just nod and mutter out a pathetic, “yes, daddy.” 

Dean cracks a smile at that, a pleased sigh falling from him. He leans forward and presses a long kiss to your forehead before pulling back. Then he pulls you against him, tucking his chin on the top of your head while holding you in his strong arms. 

“You know everything I do is out of love, right?”

You let the question hang in silence. He made you promise not to lie, so you don’t. Instead you close your eyes and try to block out the world long enough to find some sort of escape.

**Author's Note:**

> I’ve never written anything like this before so feedback is appreciated <3


End file.
